


Sky Full of Song

by Niori



Series: Ceremonials [5]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Identity Reveal, Jorgamund!Wong, Magic Revealed, Watch as I butcher Norse myths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 03:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14803776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niori/pseuds/Niori
Summary: Jorgamund spent what short childhood he had envious of his parent's magic. He had watched fire and ice mingle together with the scent of magic combining with the sounds of spells on the air.Then, while traveling through the heat and noise of India, he heard a rumour. It was an overheard whisper about the mystic arts. He thought it would be impossible, but when the rumours reached him, he went searching for it.(In which Jorgamund is the king of dramatic entrances)





	Sky Full of Song

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I'll fully admit that this is my least favourite of the series, but I really just needed to get it out there. Hopefully you enjoy anyway!

Jorgamund knew the dark. He dreamed of it still, woke up on the long cold nights of Nepalese winters, and would shake. He would chase away the shadows by turning on every light he could, and then wait for the dawn. He would force himself to at least try to meditate, but would never be able to calm his spirit. He had been thrown into the deepest depths of the ocean, where there was no light, little sound, and scarce food. The myths said he bit his own tail, keeping him in place. The myths were wrong in the way he was trapped (spells and curses worked better than any physical restraints), but he couldn't surface. He tried to escape, but it wasn't possible. If he tried to shapeshift to break the enchantments, the pressure would kill him. He was stuck, and it didn't take long for the pain to start. Shapeshifters weren't meant to stay in one shape too long. It was unnatural. Not changing was like letting a wound getting infected. It started with an uncomfortable itch and eventually led to unspeakable agony. By the time he was freed, it was closer to agony.

The loneliness nearly drove him mad, if not for the fact he refused to let Asgard break him. It had already taken everything else from him. He lost track of time down in the dark, but when his father finally helped him emerge after a century, it felt like it had been so much longer. He had been young -around nineteen, if he had to use Midgardian years- when he went into the sea, but whatever innocence or joy that went with youth was buried and lost when he came up. 

When he saw the sun for the first time in a century, it blinded him. His father had to heal him. Hela and Fenrir were already on the shore, waiting for him in their new disguises. He followed their example and shifted into a human shape. Jorgamund wept in relief as he shed one shape for another. His skin no longer seemed as tight, like he needed to claw it off to make the pain stop. He hugged his siblings (Hela, who looked no more than sixteen, Fenrir only twelve) and then his father. They said their goodbyes, and then Loki took each of them to different parts of Midgard and left with one final goodbye. Magic hung over all three of them, protecting them from Heimdall's Sight and giving them a starter identity. Jorgamund knew he would have the easiest, with his ability to change bodies at a whim. Hela had her magic, but this wasn't a Midgard that was kind to a woman alone. Fenrir, with only his rage and maybe a little bit of extra strength, would have it even worse. The world wasn't much nicer to young orphans. They would survive. He had to believe this. They had survived everything so far, they would do this as well. 

Jorgamund wandered his new world, shifting as needed, and stayed in the parts of Midgard where the sun shone the brightest. He had no idea where to go or what to do now. He had no plans, and he hid his terror at it so deep that he could barely show his emotions anymore. He avoided the sea. He couldn't stand the sight of it. For the first hundred years, he floundered and found nothing.  
Then, while traveling through the heat and noise of India, he heard a rumour. It was an overheard whisper about the mystic arts. He'd heard much about magic, for Midgard claimed it in many places, but if he searched it out, it was little more than illusions and faith. Midgard had magic in the air -all realms did-, but it seemed none of the mortals had found a way to weave it. But this, when he asked for clarification, it rang true. It reminded him of the way his mother had described the magic of Jotunheim, long ago. 

Jorgamund spent what short childhood he had envious of his parent's -and then his baby sister's- magic. He had watched fire and ice mingle together with the scent of magic combining with the sounds of spells on the air. It never had time to grow bitter -it was too short a happy life for that-, but his lack of magic left him jealous. He had shapeshifting, but that was more biology with the aid of innate magic passed to him from his parents. Having magic didn't make you able to shapeshift, and being a shapeshifter didn't mean you could control magic. Out of them all, Jorgamund always thought it made sense it would be him. He was a snake, after all, and a snake needed to shed their skin. Still, for all that, Jorgamund always wished he had the magic that could change the world around him. He thought it would be impossible, but when the rumours reached him, he went searching for it. He eventually found it in the mountains of Nepal. When he arrived, he had no idea if he could even learn this Midgardian magic, but why not try?

When he found the Ancient One, he had a story prepared. He didn't need it, because she saw what he was. She asked no questions, but told him she could teach him. Jorgamund learned the magic he had spent his life longing for. He took the name Wong and spent the next two hundred years learning, teaching, and protecting. He shapeshifted to age, when needed, but being in the same vicinity of the Ancient One meant his long life was barely questioned. 

Magic was all he hoped for. His parents would be delighted with him. He wished he could show them, but both Loki and Angrboda were lost to him. Loki could not come for them, for fear that he would lead Odin to them. Angrboda was dead. He watched her die. He had kept Hela and Fenrir from seeing it, but Jorgamund made sure to watch, to witness Asgard's sins. He would have them burned into his memories, and never forgive them for it. He hoped he would live long enough to see Asgard burn. 

He held those emotions deep, unwilling to give into his rage like Fenrir had. He blamed his little brother, at first, for causing Asgard to act. He realized eventually that they were just using Fenrir's actions as the excuse to do what they had already been planning. He took a long time to let go of his anger, and when he did, he swore to himself he would never let his rage rule him like it did Fenrir. When he emerged from the ocean, he made sure his anger stayed buried in the depths. During his time in Kamar-Taj, he was called aloof, humourless, distant, or uncaring. It made the mortals who passed through keep their distance. He preferred it. Becoming attached to mortals would only lead to pain, and he had already lost enough. 

Strange was the only one who ever called him on it, and Wong enjoyed being deadpan in return, leaving the doctor feeling awkward. It was infinity less delightful when he realized that Strange had used tricks to defy him and sneak out books he was meant to protect. Though, as the son of the God of Mischief, he appreciated how well Strange executed his scheme. He could see a job well done, even if it was at his expense. It was at that point he had to grudgingly admit he kind of liked Stephen Strange.

When Strange gave his life, over and over, to stop Dormammu from consuming the world, he both liked and respected him. It was that respect that made him stay after the Ancient One's death, as much as it was duty. He swore an oath to protect this realm from magical threats, and he would keep his promise to the woman who had helped give him magic. Wong didn't have to stay and help Strange while he unwittingly became the new Sorcerer Supreme, but he did. Yet he still kept his secrets, probably for the same reasons Hela kept it from her mortal and Fenrir stayed hidden. He trusted Strange, but would not risk a return to the dark. 

Then, everything changed with one video. He watched Hela tell the truth, and at first he was furious. He had struggled with his anger for the first time in centuries, had felt it build until he was choking on it. How could she do this, risk them all? When the second video came, of Fenrir embracing his Captain America for the world to see, he hadn't been able to hold back the rage. He took a portal to an empty desert and just let his magic and his anger loose. Once he had screamed his anger out, and it had retreated back into him, he understood. Hela had no choice -the risk had been out of her control-, and she had to protect them in any way she could. She was powerful and Fenrir was a war hero. What better way to shield them from Asgard, then to make sure this realm loved them too much to let them go? Midgard would fight if Asgard came, and while they couldn't stop the Golden Realm on their own, there were a number of other realms that would take the excuse to join in and rebel with them.

Still, Wong stayed in the shadows, as he always had. Even as other magical threats popped up -his father and his plans, Amora making her way to Earth, Doom combining magic and robotics, and the handful of lesser magic users- in the wake of his father's first attempted invasion. The Ancient One had watched these threats, magical or not, and left them to the Avengers and their ilk. She never asked him to revel himself, not even when Kaecilius's plan was unfolding. The Ancient One had only mentioned his secrets directly once, a long time ago.

"There will come a time, Midgard Serpent, when you need to show yourself. You will know when."

He probably should have, when it came for him to save the last sanctum from falling. Wong should have become himself then, but he didn't. Perhaps he thought it could be handled with magic or that his true form would only cause more damage. Maybe it was left over issues from his childhood, the belief he needed magic to be strong. Whatever it was, he fought and almost died as a Midgardian wizard rather then a Jotun snake. Once the dust settled and the world saved, Jorgamund couldn't help but laugh. Not at Strange's words, but because he had looked at his realm being invaded by the dark dimension and didn't think that it was the 'when' the Ancient One told him of.

That 'when' came a handful of years later, six months after Hela exposed their existence. Where the Ancient One had been willing to let most magical threats pass (for many reasons, including protecting him), Strange was not. Every time it happened, the doctor protested staying hidden. If the bad guys were blatantly using magic, then surely they had no reason to keep themselves a secret. Wong had so far been able to channel his father's silver tongue to convince the Sorcerer Supreme not to. Then, as the two of them watched a live broadcast of Amora the Enchantress causing havoc on the other side of their city, Wong knew the time had come. 

"I still think-"

Wong cut Strange off in the middle of his argument, "When you first joined us, I told you the Avengers protected the world from the physical and us from the mystical."

"Yes, and I am arguing that this counts as mystical. You've used this argument before."

Wong continued as though Strange hadn't said anything, "Later, when more magical threats appeared to the public, you kept insisting we deal with them. I've insisted we stay hidden and let the Avengers take care of those threats until we are absolutely needed," he paused, and was surprised that Strange hadn't interrupted yet, "I never explained the real reason why." 

"Wait, are you telling me your talk about keeping our secrecy so we're better back up was you lying?" Strange almost sounded offended. He certainly couldn't believe it, "Wait, you can lie?" 

"That's still true. It's just not why I argued for it. I wanted us to stay hidden so that I could stay hidden."

"You're hidden? From what? Are you some sort of fugitive? You? What could you even have done?" Strange sounded incredulous. 

"Yes, I am, but it's no fault of my own. I exist."

"What? Existing isn't actually a crime!"

"It is on Asgard," He left it at that. Strange was a smart man. He'd figure it out. 

It only took a moment for the doctor to do so, "Wait, so you're..."

"Jorgamund." It was the first time he had said his name in centuries. It felt strange on his tongue.

"The snake? You've been hiding the fact you're a giant snake?" 

Wong didn't answer, not when Strange was intelligent enough to know he'd have no reason to lie. 

"How did you hide that you're a giant snake!" 

"Shapeshifting."

"If there's ever going to be a time to give more than one word answers, it's now!"

"Yes, I am a giant snake," he humoured Strange, who was reacting as he had when the Ancient One had first shown him the truth about magic, "My father is Loki. I believe we should get to the other end of town and help the Avengers stop Amora."

He'd never seen Strange sputter so. It was quite hilarious. It made him snort, and even that show of emotion made Strange's reaction worse. Wong waited it out. Amora would be awhile yet. There was little need to rush. He gave her tirade another half and hour, at least. It took nearly three minutes, of which Wong watched blandly. Finally, Strange stopped speaking. When he said the next thing, it was a direct question.

"So you want to reveal ourselves now? You want to tell everyone now?" 

"Yes."

"Why now?"

"It's time."

"Can you even say more than two words right now?"

"Yes," and yes, he said it to get under Strange's skin. The doctor made it too easy.

Strange opened his mouth to speak, probably to berate/attempt to make Wong say something more, but thought better of it. He'd learned better by now. Instead, he went to the point, "The Enchantress is hardly a serious threat, at least at the moment. She looks like she's doing little more than playing with them. She's not exactly the biggest reason to show ourselves."

"That's the point. I plan to shift, and it's better I do it when I have to worry less about the damage." 

"How big are you exactly?" 

Wong thought about how large he had been three hundred years ago, and considered that he might have grown further in that time, "The size of a subway car, or at least I was. I might be bigger."

"A subway car. Of course you are. You're going to turn into a snake that big in the middle of the city. Is this your attempt to outdo Potts and Barnes's reveals? You certainly have your father's sense of drama." 

Wong just raised an eyebrow. No one had ever called him a drama queen before, "I think we should go now."

"Will Amora be a problem? She's from Asgard."

"I can handle the Enchantress," Wong left it at that.

"One of these days, I am going to get you drunk just to make you actually talk for once."

They left on that, opening portals to the carnage of Amora's battle. It was still in full force, with the screams of mortals who hadn't gotten away and crumbling infrastructure. There were explosions and Amora's cackling laughter. The Enchantress herself stood on top of a half destroyed restaurant, magic making her hands glow a poisonous green. She was playing with Falcon and War Machine, making them dodge her rapid fire spells. The Widow and the Hawk were busy evading Amora's Executioner's axe. He looked across the battlefield, and saw that Iron Man and Captain America were apparently trapped in an invisible cage near the edges. Wong raised an eyebrow at that.

When they were back on steady ground, both he and Strange threw spells in her direction. The spells hit Amora while she was off guard, if only because she didn't expect it. She stumbled back into the rubble behind her, barely able to stay on her feet. She leaned there for a moment, eyes wide with shock, before she schooled her face, brushed dust off her clothes, and stood up straight.

She sneered at them both, "So Midgard has wizards now? How quaint." 

"My name is Doctor Stephen Strange, master of the mystical arts. You will stand down."

Amora laughed, and why wouldn't she? The Enchantress learned magic from the Norn queen, had done magic with Loki, one of the best sorcerers in the Nine. Why would a goddess fear any of them? 

"Is that name supposed to mean something to me? You might be strong, little wizards, but I'm stronger and older."

Strange didn't actually have an answer for that. He quipped something, which only made Amora's condescension grow. The doctor scowled and Wong wanted to laugh. He could face Dormammu itself, but it was the Enchantress's snideness that made him angry.

Instead, Wong shifted. His human skin slipped away and his body stretched. He grew, his limbs retracted, and obsidian scales covered his body. The ground shook below him, and the items around him crumbled under his weight. It took him less than ten seconds to be himself again, and he was hit by a realization. He had assumed his magic was what made him strong, but now, he realized he felt more powerful than he had in centuries without it. Truly powerful.

Strange cursed in surprise as his cloak flew him out of the way of Wong's growing body. He had been told his size, but knowing and seeing were two different things. Amora gaped at him, mouth wide open in shock. Finally, she managed to control her surprise, and she smiled. Not a smirk or a vicious grin, but a true smile that softened her features. 

"If it isn't the last wayward Lokison," she said.

"Enchantress," he replied, no longer able to make words vocally, but projecting them into the minds around him. 

"You've learned magic. Your father will be proud. Even if you're wasting your time with Midgardians," Strange's squawk of indignation was amusing, but he kept it to himself, "though Loki might be perplexed that yet another of his children has become a do gooder." 

"Don't dismiss the Sorcerer Supreme so quickly," he didn't reply to her comments, though he felt the twinge of happiness at her assertion Loki would be proud. No matter how far his father had fallen, he still wanted him to be proud, "look at what he wears around his neck."

Amora truly looked at Strange, and when her gaze came to the Eye of Agamotto that rested against his collarbone, she audibly gasped. She turned wide eyes back to the snake, "What...how..."

"It doesn't matter," he said, "only that he has mastered it." 

"Is that a warning Jor?" Amora was amused, enough to use his nickname, "Are you trying to keep me out of trouble? I'm touched," she wasn't being sarcastic. No many people tried to look out for her these days.

"A suggestion. I know what I owe you Amora." 

Loki had never implied anything, but Wong had been old enough to understand what was going on when Asgard imprisoned them. He knew it would only work of there was a way to spell his father from being able to free them. The fact that Loki managed to free them after all, told him someone had done his work for him. Wong knew of only one person in Asgard who would be able and willing to help Loki save them. It was all but confirmed to him on the one occasion he had met Amora before then- Loki trusted her to find them on Earth and make sure they were surviving. It was only once, but that moment had made it easier. He knew his father hadn’t forgotten them.

"Do you?" Amora was still enjoying herself, "then surely your debt could be repaid by letting me have my fun. I've even made sure to keep your siblings' little pets safe," she gestured over to where Captain America and Iron Man were still trapped. That explained the cage.  
"There are eight other realms close enough where you can have your fun in, ones I'm not sworn to protect."

Amora sighed, then grinned, "Is this your way of telling me you want me to cause destruction on Asgard? Would you like me to set some fires in your name?"

He laughed, a full booming laugh that shook the ground. He found the idea of Amora's havoc on Asgard being done for him enjoyable. She just grinned back.

"I'll take this as a yes. Very well. I'll leave your precious Midgard intact for today," she sighed, like she was doing him a favour. It would only last until her whims changed, but that was just the way with Amora. It was why she and Loki got along so well, most of the time. 

There was a shimmer of green, and then Amora was resting on his head. He felt her lips brush across his scales, and close as she could come to a peck on the cheek while he was in this form, "I think I'll burn down the orchards for you. Or perhaps your old rooms in the palace. Either way, I'll keep your name out of Aesir ears. Tell your siblings I said hello, and if you see your father, remind him he owes me a boon." 

She glimmered again, and then she was standing back on her original perch, shark grin in place, "Woe is me, for I have been defeated by a Lokison!" She yelled it, as though she was a mediocre stage actor trying to keep the audience's attention. It would undoubtedly look positively stunning for any camera that could be watching. She gave him a flourish of a deep bow, and then with a snap of her fingers, both she and Skurge were gone in a puff of emerald smoke. 

With the Enchantress gone, he left himself shrink and reform until he was just Wong once again. Strange landed beside him. 

"Why am I here? I contributed nothing."

"Yes you did," Wong replied, "you announced yourself and your magic."

"You used me as a distraction," Strange looked half irritated, half impressed, "you are your father's son."

Wong was content with living in the shadows. He was not his family, did not wish himself to be in the limelight. He knew his appearance would be breaking news, but unlike Hela and Fenrir, he was a nobody in the eyes of the realm. Strange was still a renowned, if reclusive and semi-retired neurosurgeon, and he just showed Midgard that they had their own mortal magic. Wong turning into a giant snake would pale in comparison to that. What was one more reveal of Loki's children, after the first two?

"I'm feeling oddly used at the moment," Strange commented. 

"Yes," Wong gave him a direct reply for once. Strange started to speak, but was cut off by the approach of the Avengers. Stark was in the lead, face plate down and a smirk on his lips.

"Damn Anaconda, I like the drama of it all. I fully approve. Second place goes to the magician with the fabulous cape," Stark got there and stuck out his hand, and Wong just looked at it, "Ouch. Tough crowd." 

"You get used to it," Strange said dryly, "don't expect full sentences anytime soon. That won't come for at least a month."

Steve Rogers reached them next, and there was a genuine smile on his face, "Jorgamund, right? Bucky and Pepper have been hoping you'd come back. They're going to be so excited you're here," when the captain offered his hand, Wong shook it.

Stark made an indignant sound, "Oh, I see how it is. There's a bias against those of us with awesome facial hair."

"How did you get Amora to leave?" Black Widow was there next, and looked more than a little suspicious. Barton stayed far away, and War Machine and Falcon were landing nearby.

"I asked," he replied, "she and my father are friends. Sometimes."

"Sometimes? What does that even mean?"

"It means Reindeer Games and Tall, Blonde, and Psycho don't hold grudges when they stab each other in the back. I hate to tell you, Anaconda, but your father is nuts."

"Wong," he ignored Stark in particular and gave his name to them all.

There were more questions, but they eventually moved onto the magic and wizards in general. He let Strange explain, even though he was by far the better expert. He let attention pass from him, with the exception of Rogers, who wouldn't stop grinning at him. Come tomorrow, his appearance would be one of the smaller parts of the story. It would be about the existence of Midgard's magic and what that meant for the realm. The press would speculate about the sorcerers of the world, and if they would work with the Avengers. It had all gone according to plan, and he could all but hear his father's delighted chuckle. Wong thought of it and smiled.


End file.
